First Touches
by shannondaskies
Summary: She thought he hadn't noticed her. He proved her wrong. Broom closets are handy plot devices!


My first attempt at anything vaguely smutty, wherein I find it difficult to use any smutty words. Thanks to **a_rocky_ravine** for looking over it! I hate the title. I also think it's a bit rushed, but it wouldn't leave me alone til it was out of my head.

**First touches**** by shannondaskies**

She'd thought of practically nothing else all week.

She wasn't usually one to join the slightly risqué games the seventh years liked to play, but _he'd_ been there… so last Friday, when Caterina gave her a pleading look from the lap of her current crush, she'd agreed to join. The other sixth year girls shot them jealous glares, but she didn't notice, focussed as she was on feigning a nonchalance she didn't really feel as she sat gracefully in the space Rabastan made for her on the sofa. A new hand was dealt to include her, and Rabastan poured her the required glass of Firewhiskey as Alistair quickly explained the rules. Nodding in understanding, she could feel _his_ eyes on her from the other side of the low table.

In the two hours that followed, dice were rolled, cards played and forfeits given in the form of Firewhiskey shots and outer layers of clothing (she noted Caterina had purposely neglected to wear some of hers to begin with, though Mathieu didn't seem to mind), and she had been thoroughly kissed by three of the five boys around the table – and one of the girls, though she noticed they were both careful to make it seem like more than it was. So when she lost a round where he'd had the highest hand, it was with both trepidation and excitement that she made her slightly wobbly way around the table to seat herself in his lap.

Biting her lip, she gazed at him nervously, and he must have noticed, because the somewhat predatory look in his eyes softened as he leaned in to claim his forfeit. And claim it he did. No sooner had his lips touched hers then she found herself enfolded in his arms, one hand snaking into her hair as the other slid under her shirt to rest, warm and possessive, on her back. Her eyes fluttered closed as she gave in to the skilfully demanding onslaught of his lips and tongue, and heat pooled low in her belly as she wound her arms around his neck, eagerly kissing him back. A small moan escaped her as his fingers began to trace light patterns on her skin, and she felt his answering hum of approval as she wriggled closer to him.

It wasn't until the catcalls of the other game players and the laughing exhortations to "Get a room!" broke her concentration that she pulled away from him. Glancing down in confusion, and slightly embarrassed at how far she'd allowed things to go, and made her way awkwardly back to her seat. Rabastan gave her a knowing grin, and she blushed, noting that _he_ merely sat there, smirking.

The game continued til they ran out of Firewhiskey, though she was very careful not to lose another hand, and as she and Caterina stumbled back to their dorm, she turned back once, hoping for a final glimpse - only to see his eyes on them, his gaze thoughtful and appraising.

So it was that she found herself distracted and edgy as she wandered the corridors late at night the following Friday. The game was on again, but he wasn't there, so she'd declined the offer, rolling her eyes at Rabastan's wink. Instead, she opted to walk off the odd disappointment she felt when she'd realised he wasn't there. Not that he'd given her any cause to think anything would happen.

Rounding in a corner, she mentally ran through the times she'd seen him this week – most meals, and three evenings in the common room. And 'seen' was meant quite literally. If she looked in his direction, she saw him. He never spoke to her, and though she swore she felt his eyes on her at dinner, when she glanced his way, he was chatting with Prudence. So instead, she allowed herself to be gently flirted with by Alistair, and Rabastan (though she knew he was only teasing – since he kept making irritating references to last week and if they weren't such good friends she would hex him!), and had her books carried by Xavier. Each time she thought she'd felt him staring, and each time he'd been talking with someone else.

Panicking that she'd been attributing reactions and feelings to him where there were none, she began to examine each encounter in more detail, searching for any clue that he might possibly have thought about her at all since that one amazing kiss. Surely she'd had some effect on him? He'd certainly seemed to enjoy it at the time. He must have thought about it - after all, she'd thought of practically nothing else all week...

So caught up was she in her thoughts that the arm that suddenly appeared around her waist and dragged her backwards into the gloom of a broom closet was entirely unexpected. The hand splayed over her hip felt familiar, though, and when she found herself turned around and pressed back against the door, she opted not to struggle. Hoping desperately that the lips now making their languorous way up her neck and along her jaw were his, she ran a tentative hand over his chest, and was beyond pleased to feel the smooth metal of a Head Boy badge under her searching fingers.

Tilting her head til her mouth met his, she threaded the fingers of one hand into his hair while the other pulled his shirt from his waistband. She wanted to feel skin, and when her palm met the muscles of his back, she felt his sharp intake of breath and smirked. He chuckled then, pulling away from her mouth to bury his face in her neck, nipping lightly at the skin before covering each small bite with a soft kiss. His hands were everywhere at once, brushing the sides of her breasts, thumbs skimming over the sensitive peaks, stroking the skin of her thighs, cupped around her bottom as he pulled her leg up to rest over his hip. Her head swam with sensation and her heart raced as she tilted her head back, offering her throat to his questing mouth.

Tucking her fingers into the front of his trousers, her knuckles resting against his skin, she pulled him closer, wanting as much of him against as much of her as she could manage. There was a tension building inside her, and if she hadn't been so focussed on him all week, she might have questioned just what she was doing in a broom closet letting her blouse be unbuttoned, much less allowing his hands to roam along the skin he'd revealed, by somebody she hadn't exchanged more than a handful of words with in the six years she'd been at school with him. Aside from the imaginary conversations in her head, wherein he told her how much he liked her and thought she was smart, fun, pretty, and kissed her, and ran his hand under her skirt – no, that was happening now.

Oh, Merlin, that was happening now…

His hand was resting on the soft skin of her inner thigh, fingertips dangerously close to the edge of her knickers. Her breathing quickened as his mouth made it's way down her neck, pausing to lay several kisses along her collarbone. He took advantage of the gasp she made as he grazed her skin with his teeth to move his fingers closer to her, until they were resting directly on the lace-edged silk covering her heated centre.

Whimpering slightly as anticipation built inside her, she clenched her fist in his shirt and fought to control her breathing as a growing urge to _move_ became apparent.

"Please," she breathed, not knowing exactly what it was she was asking for, but knowing she needed _something_.

He smiled against her neck, then. She held her breath when he lowered his mouth to the swell of her breasts, and pressed his lips to the slightly flushed skin above the edge of her bra, his breath hot and the tip of his tongue teasing the skin - but his hand on her knickers remained still. Her body set to trembling in expectation, and she felt a groan of frustration building... then she felt his mouth close over one silk-covered nipple. Laving it gently with his tongue, he moved his fingers upwards in a single, firm stroke, and her whole body tensed as she gave a breathless "Oh!" of surprise.

The light touch of his teeth through the slightly dampened silk of her bra made her back arch and she whimpered, only to have it become a moan when he moved his fingers again, with more pressure this time. She was somewhat self-conscious about being touched there, especially since she could feel herself responding. She knew he could feel it, too, because his breath was coming faster and his mouth at her breast more hurried, and there was an unmistakable hardness pressing into her hip. Then that same deep, intense yearning she'd felt when he kissed her breathless last week began to build inside her, and she couldn't help but tilt her hips to meet his hand.

He changed his tentative movements to definite caresses, though he was avoiding one particular spot, and a frustrated moan escaped her at the almost teasing nature of his touch. He smirked in response, reaching up to pull the silk of her bra away from her breast, and she gasped at the rush of cool air, only to give a shuddering sigh as he closed his mouth over her nipple once more, his lips and tongue gently teasing, and her whole body became suffused with heat and need. He chose that moment to press his fingers firmly right where she wanted them most, and the yearning she'd felt earlier blossomed into insistent demand. Giving up on controlling her reactions, she surrendered to the desire running through her and allowed her breathing to escalate as tension coiled tighter within her.

He'd begun to rock gently against her hip as his fingers began a circular movement against her most sensitive place, and she writhed against him as she half sobbed with need she didn't quite know how to express. Her body was crying out for his touch, and she curled her fingers into his shirt as the coiled need within her grew tighter and tighter.

He lifted his head to meet her lips in a desperate kiss, his desire for her as evident against her as the slickness under his fingers spoke of her desire for him. The speed and pressure of his hand increased as he began to thrust more firmly against her, and she moaned into his kiss, clutching at his shoulders as she felt herself reaching for _something_… Every muscle in her in body began to tense as she rocked her hips frantically against his hand. She felt like she was right on the edge of something wonderful, if she could only...

He broke the kiss to look at her, fierce need in his gaze. "Come for me, Cissa."

And his words, spoken in a voice low and roughened with lust, pushed her over that edge, her desire exploding into a sudden rush of intense pleasure that radiated through her in waves. Her back arched and she cried out, eyes closed and head thrown back, her fingers digging into his upper arms. He buried his face in the crook of her neck; his breathing came fast and shallow as his thrusts grew more erratic, til he shuddered, groaning his release against her flushed skin.

They stood there in the dim light of the broom closet, gasping for breath, wrapped in each other's arms, her head resting against the door and his still on her shoulder. Her fingers loosened their hold on his arms, and he gently removed his hand from between her legs, letting it come to rest on her waist. As he regained control of his breath, he raised his head to place a lingering kiss on her lips.

"No more games, Narcissa," Lucius said. "You're mine."

She gazed at him, eyes wide, lips swollen from his kisses, and nodded once.

"Alright," she agreed. "But you're mine, too."

His answering smile lit up his face, and she couldn't help but return it.

* * *

Your thoughts and opinions are very much appreciated.


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